Strong
by mbkrdk1l2y3n
Summary: Megara Strong was a victor of the 70th annual Hunger Games. But her life completely changes again during the 74th Hunger Games. There will be romance...Cato is not a tribute of the 74th Games, but, instead the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games. This is my first story so please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

I stare blankly ahead. I don't really care who is selected. It's sad to say, but in all honesty, they'll probably be dead in a few weeks. My name is Megara Strong and I am the victor of the 70th Hunger Games. I sit on the stage of District 5, my home. I try to look anywhere but at the terrified faces of the children, or the crying ones of the mothers, waiting on the side. During my first year as a mentor, the 71st Hunger Games, I tried to be as compassionate and helpful as I could be, still angry at my mentors for not helping me much. Even though this is only my third year as a mentor, I have already learned that is much easier to be calloused and harsh. Otherwise, it hurts to much to lose kids every year. I can't look look at their faces. so instead I stare at directly into the back of our escort - this year she had dyed herself pink and wears a turquoise dress that balloons out around her waist, but then becomes tight again around her knees. Next, my eyes make their way to the ominous gray clouds that hang low in the sky.

The day of my reaping was peaceful and sunny, I was sure I wouldn't get chosen that day, at sixteen I felt immortal. I was vaguely aware of the Capitol and the armed Peace Keepers that "kept me safe", but as a privileged young girl from the right side of town, I was unable to see them for who they really were.

My eyes finally come to rest of the black leather shoes of the other mentor of District 5, Ketler. He seemed nice, but he was old and I had never bothered to get to know him.

I managed to control my muscles when the girl tribute for the 74th annual Hunger Games was called, she was young and small. It wasn't fair! None of this was, but I smiled reassuringly out to all of Panem, signaling to them that I could make a victor out of her yet. I hadn't produced a victor yet, and I could tell many people in District 5 were losing faith in my abilities. In fact, many people had never had faith in me, I hadn't won my Hunger Games using traditional methods. I hid most of the game until I could outsmart all those who were left. It didn't hurt that in training I had found I that I was good with a bow and arrow because I was able to hide and kill the others without ever getting my hands dirty. In a way, it helped me sleep at night. I hadn't killed those children with my hands, I hadn't really killed them at all, my arrows had.

Then it happens.

Once the girl is on stage, practically shaking, the pink lady struts to the other large bowl. I notice her fingernails are covered in snake skin as she fishes for the second name. She says the name with a smile, to much of a smile if you ask me, especially since we had never been fond of each other. "Sawyer Strong". My breath hitches loudly as I frantically search for the one pair of eyes I hope I will not find. "Don't be here. Don't be here," I pray under my breath. I know it was no use as I say it, why would he not be here? Everyone has to be here. Then I find him, our blue eyes met as he climbed on stage. I force a reassuring smile to my brother as he ascends, but I'm sure it doesn't help him.

I stand like a stone for the rest of the ceremony, knowing that many eyes in Panem would be trained on me, gauging my reaction. I don't want to stand here; I want to scream and run. I need to get my brother out of here. But I can't. That is the overwhelming truth that is currently, a repeatedly, hitting me in the face. And so I do all I can do, I smile. My smile is proud, confident, and almost a little cocky. I had perfected it during my pre-Game interviews. It was all I could do as I watched the tributes shake hands and then be ushered into the room behind the stage.

As soon as I am backstage, out of view of the cameras, I let two tears fall from my eyes. However, I don't waste much time feeling sorry for myself, that won't get me anywhere. Instead of weak, I become determined. I am determined to help my brother win the 74th annual Hunger Games. I tell myself at that moment that these Games will not take anyone from the Strong family, I won't let them.


	2. Chapter 2

I could have gone to see my brother then, I was family after all, but I couldn't bring myself to do it yet. So, instead, I said my own good-byes. There weren't many, I hadn't had many friends since my return four years ago. I think many of my old friends were scared of me. The HUnger Games had changed my life in millions of little ways. There had even been a boy before, we had planned on getting married once we were old enough. But, when I returned, he was different- or at least I was. I couldn't feel the love for him I had before. I was cold, harsh, and confused, so I didn't blame him for ending it. The only real friends I had left were my family and the other victors.

So I wait down the hallway from my brother for my parents and sister. My sister is twelve this year, it was sad to say that my dad and I had been so worried about her that we had kind of ignored my brother. When they left the room my sister had tears in her eyes and my mother's head was buried in my father's chest. I ran over to them immediately and tried to hold all three of them in my arms at the same time. After a few more hugs we said our final goodbyes. As I began to turn away from them, my mother grabbed my arm. She made me promise that I would bring Sawyer home. The force and desperation of this action didn't startle me as much as it did my sister. My mother was almost always rather unemotional, but I had always known that Sawyer was her favorite, her only son. I'm honestly not sure that she could survive if he didn't.

I boarded the train silently; however, I was the last so all eyes were on me as I walked into the dining car. Looking into my brother's eyes at that moment I couldn't contain myself any longer. I run right at him- throwing my arms around him. Something in his eyes triggered the tears. Maybe it is because they are so similar to mine, blue with gold flakes toward the center, but I was immediately reminded of the fear that had been coursing through my body as I sat silently on the train four years ago.

In past years Ketler and I had shared responsibility of both of the tributes, hoping that our different skill sets would help create and well-rounded and prepared tribute. However, this year Ketler and I decided to each take one tribute. He knew I would never be able to help the other girl, Sasha. In all honesty I hadn't given her as much credit as she deserved at the reaping, no one had. But as I had reexamined Sasha in the past day I realized she was smart, fast, and cunning, almost fox like in those ways. Honestly, any other year I would have been overjoyed for a tribute like her; a surprise that no one in the arena was expecting, almost like I had been. I began to see her as a bigger and bigger threat.

Turning on the TV that night I assumed my district's reaping would be a big focus. I mean what were the odds that two siblings were chosen in a matter of four years. But no one on the television even mentioned it. I didn't want to believe the Capitol wasn't mentioning it because it wasn't chance, but that is what seemed more and more likely as the night went on. It was true that the volunteer in district twelve was surprising, and newsworthy as well, but recently the Capitol hadn't been very happy with my choices and I couldn't help but think that they were punishing me. Punishing me in the worst way, by making me walk my brother to his imminent death.

I think I had been staring at Sasha for a few minutes before my brother said something. The time I had spent with my brother had passed too quickly and somehow we were already at the tribute parade. Sasha and Sawyer climbed onto the cart adorned in ridiculous metallic silver costumes- with head pieces to match. I was willing to admit that I didn't know much about fashion but I was sure that these outfits were not it. I was angry with the designer, she wasn't trying! She didn't realize how important this was, my brother's life was at stake. But to her it was only a game and the tributes were just two dolls for her to play with.

I stood back as I watched the chariots roll out and I felt him standing behind me. I was about to turn to face him when, out the the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of fire. The tributes from district twelve were ablaze- literally on fire. I was instantly filled with jealousy. Not that I wanted to look like that, but I wanted it for my brother, I wanted him to be successful.


End file.
